Quiet Christmas
by Stray-Fox
Summary: Christmas Eve. The One Four One base is empty. Well... except for one troubled lieutenant and one caring captain. Oneshot. First fic so please don't kill me.


**Christmas Eve**

_Christmas Eve… Why am I not surprised…?_ Captain John "Soap" MacTavish thought to himself as he looked at a half finished stash of papers. The last mission of the special forces he was directing did not go so well. In fact, it was a complete disaster. Their intel was outdated, the hostage died, no new intel was obtained. They've hit a brick wall. No intel means no new missions. At least for a while.

He sighed and begun the mundane chore. It should not take too long. Especially that due to lack of new tasks and Christmas up ahead, everyone left for a few days to either see their loved ones or get completely drunk in the first pub they could find.

There was a soft knock on the door.

_Well… almost everyone._

"Come in." MacTavish called out. He didn't have to look up to see who the newcomer was. There was only one person in the group, who rarely took time off or had to be forced to leave the base.

Ghost opened the door, casually walked over to the captain's desk and slumped on the nearby chair, revealing two bottles of beer. He put one on the captain's desk and opened the other one. He didn't bother to wear his balaclava. There was no one around, except MacTavish and he trusted him with his life. However, he didn't put away the army knife always strapped to his belt. Or the one hidden in his left boot. Clearly, trust was an issue to Simon Riley.

"Thought you'd want get away for a bit" Soap said never looking away from the papers.

"Huh…" Ghost shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "No point."

John knew Simon's history, at least some part of if mentioned in his file and what the man himself decided to share. He knew he had no family or friends outside the task force. He knew the reason why was not a comfortable subject.

The silence filled the room again as MacTavish went back to writing reports from the last mission. Riley watched him silently, drinking his beer. They stayed like this for a few minutes until Ghost slowly shifted, his chair squeaked.

"John…?" he finally said. MacTavish, surprised by the lieutenant calling him by his first name, looked up at the man across his desk. He noticed his face wasn't as cheerful or as confident as usual. He straightened up in his chair and opened the offered bottle of beer on his desk.

"What is it…?" he nearly added "lieutenant" at the end of the sentence out of habit. It was clear that whatever Simon wanted to say was on a more personal level, there was no need for formalities.

"Why are you here?" Ghost finally asked, looking directly at the other man. This question can could have so many meanings. Why are you staying in the base over Christmas, why are you filling in reports over Christmas rather than take time off, why are you in the Task Force in the first place? MacTavish decided to go with the simple answer.

"Well, the reports aren't gonna fill themselves." he chuckled lightly, finally drinking his beer "And Shepherd isn't exactly happy how the last mission turned out."

"You know, you don't have to do it straight away, right? You can take a couple days off. " Riley's tone of voice was a little too serious for a simple statement, perhaps there was even a tint of anger in it. This didn't go unnoticed by the captain.

MacTavish sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"What's going on, Simon?" he eyed the man in question, his voice more serious.

Simon rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hand over his face. He inhaled and held his breath for a couple of seconds before answering.

"You have family out there, people who care for you. Why would you stay here over the only free days that we'd probably get until…"

"What makes you think that I do?" the captain interrupted him. Ghost looked at him, his expression now changed from angry to confused. He opened his mouth and closed it. He _didn't _know. He only _assumed _MacTavish had parents, siblings, home to come back to, where there was a set up table with a beautiful turkey dinner. Just like everyone else in the Task Force.

""Uh… sorry, sir… it's just that… wait… yo-u don't?" Simon asked quietly.

"I do." John smiled, taking a sip of his drink. Suddenly Riley felt guilty. He did not want the captain to resign from his well deserved break only because he felt sorry for his lieutenant. He purposely did not tell MacTavish he would stay in the base, but it was not difficult to figure out, especially for someone who knew Simon for some time. Before Riley could bury himself in blame, John slowly stood up, distracting the lieutenant. "But I rather spend it here."

_So it is because of me. _Ghost thought, not sure if he should feel honoured, guilty or confused. Or all at once.

MacTavish gave him an amused look and added "With _my_ family and friends."

Now Simons face was blank and he just stared at Soap. He didn't have family. They were brutally murdered years ago. Since then the word "family" was not forgotten, but distant and almost alien like.

_My family. _

"What's the face for?" MacTavish finally asked, somewhat pleased with the effect he's made on his friend. He then took his jacket from the back of his chair and put it on while standing nearly above Riley.

"Come on." he hurried Ghost and put his hand on the sitting man's shoulder. "You look like you could do with a drink."

Simon finally looked away from his captain and examined the half empty bottle of beer he was still holding.

"No," John laughed. "I mean a _real_ drink."

Ghost smiled and turned back to MacTavish, but he was already at the door. He quickly discarded the bottle and followed the captain to the nearest pub.

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, this is the FIRST fic I decided to publish. Ever. So I'm quite nervous. Sorry if there're mistakes, I read through so many times to make sure there's none but I probably missed a couple. Thanks for reading and Merry Christmas :)**


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